Quality of Light
by SkySong2
Summary: Light is a thing, and each world has a different quality of light. OT3 if one squints a bit.


**Quality of Light**

Light is a thing. Like water, like grass. Except he can't pinch it between his fingers, he can't hold it in his hands or taste it on the wind. Sometimes, he can't even really see it. Sometimes, he just has to trust that it's near. On the Destiny Islands light is yellow like a paopu fruit and the front of Riku's shirt. (The back of Riku is black, what does that say?) The light is warm and even when he closes his eyes he can feel its heat on his skin, he can see it behind his eyes.

In Traverse Town the light is piecemeal, cobbled together from the salvaged light of dead worlds into something thin that runs lime green and dirty yellow. Somehow it never bleeds together into whatever ugly color those two would make combined.

In the Deep Jungle the light is alive in a way he's never seen since. It's filtered through leaves and bugs, laughing and secretive, but willing to divulge those secrets to the worthy. He's never been sure if it found him worthy.

In the End of the World, the light is silver filament, woven together from worlds that died and worlds that were never born. It's hungry and wild, and for the first time he worries that it might swallow him whole.

In the Radiant Garden the light is a pale, bruised purple-gray from no discernable source. It drags itself as if wounded. His heart breaks a little bit every time he's there. The Radiant Garden is being rebuilt, but it never seems to feel that and he wonders if Maleficent broke her beyond repair.

In the Land of Dragons the light is pale yellow, like paper. Delicate and old and knowing in a way that he can't explain. Proud. It makes him stand a little bit taller, care a little more about his place in what goes on around him.

In the Pride Lands the light is red like spilled blood and pulses against his fur with a heartbeat. Even with the keyblade between his teeth it's hard to remember what it's like without the animal so close to his skin.

In Twilight Town the light is orange and mourning. Always reaching for what has been left behind, forgotten, and lost but never making the connection. He always feels that he's lost something precious, with that light teasing at the corners of his eyes and casting illusions there.

In the World that Never Was, the light is wane, coming only in flashes of lightning and sickly, flickering neon signs. The only way to guard against the heartless is to watch for the light of their eyes. He's not surprised, he's seen this world and others like it before – in the eyes of men like Cloud, who are never free of their darkness, no matter their search for light.

In Kairi the light is white but never blinding. It is open and unguarded, and unafraid. It calls in the dark, it shines like a beacon. It offers love, comfort, and rest unconditional. It gives him hope to meet all odds, because she reminds him of how things should have been.

In Riku the light is reclusive, gray, and small. He hesitates to call it 'crippled.' In Riku the light is a finite resource, to be cultivated carefully and used sparingly, and then only in times of dire need. But in Riku, the light fights for every inch, and it never gives up. He can see strength in Riku's light, even if Riku cannot see it himself. For Riku's was a light lost in darkness, and it held when older, stronger, more experience people fell. In Riku, the light endured.

In himself, in Sora, the light seeks. He doesn't know if it started that way, or if three odd years of jumping from world to world is what did it. But his light hunts. Kairi's guides, Riku's endures, but Sora's hunts. He chased Kairi when her light was extinguished, he chased Riku when Riku's light was obscured by another trial by darkness. And along the way, he scooped up bits of light from all the worlds, and made them his own.

Light is a thing, and it is everywhere. But in some places, it shines more brightly than others. He's never seen it so bright than between the three of them.**  
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End file.
